by Robyn Grady
His last words were met with increasing unrest among some and interested noises from others. He gave a look Abigail’s way. She sent him a wink, but in the dimmed light he wondered if she’d gone ghostly pale. She’d told him to run with any innovative ideas he’d had. That last was certainly a doozy.
Bradford Price, who’d kept quiet till now, stepped forward.
“With all due respect, Mr. Warren, you must be pulling our leg.”
With a crooked smile and feigned look of exasperation, Price glanced around to garner support. A number of men grumbled and rallied around him. Bolstered, he spoke louder.
“The Texas Cattleman’s Club has a solid, community-focused background. And I concede that with your limited knowledge, you’ve done a half-decent job of bringing that sentiment to the fore, Mr. Warren. Together we support our town and, in the proper circumstances, those in need beyond our borders. Leadership. Justice. Peace.” Like a lawyer addressing his jury, Bradford Price strolled down the line of attentive members. “We’re community-minded men. Or,” he slid a suitably contrite grin Abigail’s way, “should I say people. But, fellow members, this is not a place to babysit children. It’s a place to come together and—”
Bradford’s words faded at the same time his expression grew curious and an odd sound filtered into the room—an uncommon noise in these surrounds and yet, given their discussion, also perhaps a timely one. Somewhere nearby an infant was crying, the wails growing stronger and louder by the second. Puzzled members looked at one another and mutterings in the crowd became more pronounced. Daniel caught phrases like:
“The crying’s coming from the outside.”
“Where’s the mother, for Pete’s sake?”
“Can someone closer to the door see what the heck’s going on?”
As the presentation slides ended, the lights came up and a man with a handlebar mustache strode out. He returned in short order.
“It’s a baby, all right,” the man said. “An abandoned baby in a basket set dead center on our doorstep. Looks like a note’s pinned to the blanket.”
Daniel was forced to step back as a wave of members washed around him and out the door. He looked for Abigail but she’d joined the exodus. As Bradford moved by, Daniel noted his suddenly pasty complexion.
Daniel had almost forgotten that overheard conversation weeks before. Now snatches of Bradford Price’s tête-à-tête came echoing back. Two words, in particular.
Baby and blackmail.
How wonderful it felt to have hope! Slim as it was.
After Chad had surprised her earlier by handing over that incredible piece of information, Elizabeth jumped in her Cobra and had thought hard about breaking all land speed records to be alongside Daniel when he presented his drawings.
She’d known Daniel didn’t believe in family. Given his background, in all honesty, she couldn’t say she blamed him. No doubt he’d be concerned that if he were to ever get married, have a family of his own, the marriage might end in divorce. If that marriage was between Daniel and her, the likelihood of any children being shunted between states, as he had been as a child, was more than a possibility.
But maybe the document Chad had provided would change some of that thinking. She wasn’t expecting Daniel to clasp his hands in thanks, fall to one knee and propose on the spot. But she wondered whether he cared enough to listen to what she had to say.
When they’d been together on that island, she’d felt herself falling. She’d hoped that after he’d left to go back to New York those feelings might fade, even a little. But the knowledge that she was in love with Daniel had only grown stronger, more insistent, until lately, she would simply lie awake at night and think of what “might have been.” No matter how she tried to bury those thoughts or sweep them aside, the truth was clear.
She was in love with Daniel Warren.
And love was a powerful, stubborn thing.
Elizabeth glanced across at the passenger seat and smiled until her heart ached. The contents of that envelope might not be the answer to all of her and Daniel’s problems, but at least now she felt she had a chance.
Her gaze swung back to the road in time to see the sign for the clubhouse turnoff. She put on her turning signal, but frowned when she saw what was in front of her. Had the whole town turned out to see what the members would decide regarding the proposed clubhouse design? Pickups, luxury sedans, even a couple of trucks, were lined up bumper to bumper. She wouldn’t make it past this bottleneck for a good thirty minutes at least.
Daniel could be gone by then.
As she took the turn into the clubhouse road and slowed down, Elizabeth reminded herself she could telephone or, now, even fly up to see him. But that option left her feeling uneasy. Texans were known for their pride and she wasn’t any different. She could show up here today on the pretext of supporting him, mention the contents of that envelope and sit back to see what happened from there. It was a gamble but no brutal thumps to her self-esteem if he smiled cordially, said he was pleased for her and goodbye. If she phoned him out of the blue or, worse, appeared on his New York City doorstep, she couldn’t live with the shame if he turned her away.
Inhaling, she set her hands more firmly on the steering wheel as her car slowed to a stop. There was nothing for it but to make sure they saw each other today. No matter what.
When the screech of approaching tires had her glancing into the rearview mirror, her grip on the wheel tightened more. A bright red car barreling up behind must have been driven by the devil himself. Then Elizabeth’s eyes widened and her fast-beating heart flew up the back of her throat. She had barely enough time to realize her plans for seeing Daniel today were history before the maniac’s car smashed full force into the rear of hers.
Daniel had followed the rest of the crowd out to a nearby doorway. Now a wall of curious onlookers blocked his view, but the noise was unmistakable. A baby was crying, demanding attention and care. He was no expert, but it sounded like a newborn.
He risked a glance skyward. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought someone was on his side, making a point that this place ought to dust off their agendas and acknowledge family concerns in a more hands-on way.
He’d been looking for something meaningful to incorporate into those outdoor semicircles. Seeing how connected Elizabeth was to her land, knowing how she’d helped that family and many like them—and given that Abigail, a woman, was running for presidency of the club—it had seemed timely to go that one step further, incorporating the playground and child-minding area for the future female members with kids.
Above all, he got that Royal was a caring community. The Cattleman’s Club was an institution that was well-known for defending those who couldn’t defend themselves. The way he figured, they’d either embrace his innovative ideas or run him out of town.
But this baby had stolen the show and rightly so.
Now, as he craned to peer over the tops of heads and between shoulders, Daniel saw how tiny he was. Cute, with lungs that wouldn’t deflate, which was a sign of good health, wasn’t it? He hadn’t had anything to do with babies. Couldn’t see now that he ever would. But somebody was responsible for the making of this one. Could it be the somebody who was loosening the Windsor knot from around his throat like it was an ever-tightening noose?
A man lifted the note from the bassinet then made a face as if he was worried the world might soon end. He handed the paper over to none other than Bradford Price.
“This here’s for you,” the man said. “The note and the baby. Says he’s yours, Brad. Says time’s up and you need to face up to your responsibilities.”
Abigail had come to stand nearby. As Price took the note with a slightly trembling hand, then gazed disbelievingly at the baby, she braced her weight against the column at her back.
Daniel rubbed his jaw. And people thought New York was rife with scandal. But in some ways he was impressed. Clearly this man felt those critical eyes upon him, waiting for a response.
A denial or a confession. But, although beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, Brad continued to stand tall, remarkably poised under pressure. Nevertheless, he had some serious back-pedaling to do if he wanted to regain the ground lost today. The spreading drone of displeasure didn’t bode well for Bradford’s election hopes. Even if he could prove he wasn’t this abandoned baby’s daddy, dirt was difficult to wash away.
“Seems your opponent might have a shaky road ahead if he wants to captain this team,” he said in Abigail’s ear.
Her cheeks were red. “I don’t believe we’ll be reconvening today’s meeting anytime soon.” She touched his arm. “Sorry, Daniel.”
“You call me when you’re ready to talk.” But she looked so pale, he had to ask. “Are you okay?”
“Just wondering what’s behind all this.” Flipping back her mane of hair, she straightened and shouldered her way through the flock of men. “Someone needs to tend to that baby.”
Stepping aside, Daniel glanced toward the parking lot and found his rental car. He’d leave Abigail a copy of his presentation to look through again, along with any other members who might be interested. It was time he checked out.
After leaving a disk on the table and collecting his laptop, Daniel made his way down the path, his thoughts back on Elizabeth…how close she was, how no good could come from him seeing her. Did she know he was in Royal today? His secretary had received a call asking when he was due. He’d thought it might’ve been Elizabeth. But Blair said it had been a man who had hung up before leaving his name when she’d told him her boss’s visit to Royal would be a very brief one.
Someone from the club perhaps? Point was, it hadn’t been Elizabeth inquiring. And if she could stay away, he’d best oblige and do the same.
Daniel was leaning into the driver’s side of his rental when an almighty crash rent the air. His heart flew to his mouth as he shot bolt upright and scanned the vicinity. A lineup of cars choked the road leading to the clubhouse. Farther down toward the turnoff, a hissing smoke was rising. Seconds later the stink of burned tires filled his lungs. Daniel flinched. Whoever had taken it up the bumper would be in for a night at the local hospital. And that was if he were lucky.
Slipping back into the driver’s seat—knowing authorities and assistance would be on the scene soon—Daniel started the engine and swerved carefully out onto the road. In the distance he heard a siren. Sitting tall in his seat, he noted the crowd gathering around the wrecks. He hadn’t been in a car accident for over a decade. Unless he counted that ding when Elizabeth had backed into him.
She’d been sitting outside his hotel, wondering whether she ought to suck up the courage to knock on his door again. Thinking of how sheepish she’d looked that day, Daniel’s blood warmed and he smiled. He’d have welcomed her intrusion. Despite the way she’d dressed him down the other day, she was still the most amazing woman he’d known. Would ever know. Such contradictions in personal strength and feminine charm; however, she did leave something to be desired when behind the wheel. He didn’t want to think about her Cobra’s repair bill, even for that minor damage. You didn’t see too many of those around. And Elizabeth had looked like the quintessential princess…?.
The accident scene had come into view and Daniel’s thoughts slowed to a crawl before a stinging chill enveloped his entire body. Between two others, a car was crushed. An expensive sports car.
A Cobra.
Daniel didn’t shut down his engine. He was out on the road and beside the wreck before he’d taken another breath. Three policemen were on the scene. A couple of paramedics were wheeling a gurney toward an ambulance tailgate. Daniel’s skin went cold from his crown to his toes. A blanket lay over the body. Her head was turned away and he couldn’t get a look at the face. All he could see was a stream of blond brushed by a gentle breeze.
A lion, teeth and claws bared, leaped up inside of him. He lunged, but the nearest officer caught his arm and another joined to rustle him back. Daniel’s mouth didn’t want to work. It took a few seconds to push out the words.
“I know that woman.”
The officer nodded, patient but firm. “It’s a small town, sir. Stand back and let us look after her for you.”
Daniel groaned, a harsh, desperate sound. “You don’t understand.”
Slanting his head, the officer looked him up and down. “You’re her husband?”
Daniel swallowed against a suddenly desert-dry throat. He’d never felt more helpless. More alone.
“No,” he admitted. “We’re not married.”
“Then you’ll have to step aside.”
Daniel stumbled back. It was only the fact that he’d hinder rather than help Elizabeth’s chances that he let the gurney slide into the back of the ambulance without making sure he was going along for the ride. A sickening moment later, the siren blared again, taking her to…
Where was the nearest hospital?
He strode back to the officer, who was directing the squeeze of traffic. “Where are they taking her?”
“To Royal Memorial.” The man’s eyes held his. “If it’s critical, she’ll be transferred.”
Daniel staggered to lean against a tree. All the precious days and hours they’d spent together bombarded his brain. How badly was she injured? Would she live?
As a narrowing black tunnel zoomed toward him, Daniel shivered as the ice in his veins began to tingle and heat. A line of perspiration erupted down his back, across his brow. He couldn’t swallow past the nausea pushing up the back of his throat.
He had to get to that hospital.
Damn it, he had to get there fast.
Fourteen
Muffled, unfamiliar sounds filtered into Elizabeth’s consciousness. Someone’s voice. The beep of a machine. Squeaking of tiny wheels whirring away. Elizabeth moved her head to the side and winced as pain shot up her right side. Her neck hurt. So did her chest. And now odd smells were invading her senses.
Antiseptic?
Freshly laundered sheets.
As if her mind were swimming in molasses, her thoughts wound slowly back. Something important had happened. She just needed a moment to focus and think what…
When Elizabeth next heard voices, machines, she felt less heavy. Wasn’t so aware of the pain. Although she was more aware of herself and her surroundings. Of where she must be.
Drowsy, she forced her eyes to open and took a few deep breaths.
She was lying in a bed in a private hospital suite, she guessed at Royal Memorial. And now she remembered why.
She’d been on her way to see Daniel with important news. There’d been a bottleneck leading up to the club. She’d felt impatient. Then came the squeal of brakes. After the collision, an ambulance had transported her to the hospital. A doctor checked her over and asked simple questions…her name, where she lived. He’d ordered further tests then had given her medication for the pain, something that had helped her settle and sleep.
Moaning, Elizabeth closed her eyes again.
The accident hadn’t been her fault. There was nothing she could have done to prevent it. Frankly, she cared far more about another situation. She wasn’t certain how much time had passed, but surely Daniel would have left Royal by now. Boarded his jet and winged it back home.
She dragged her gaze around.
Exactly how long had she been lying here?
A quiet voice.
“She’s awake.”
Cushions squished and then a face appeared before her. A friendly, wonderfully familiar face.
“How are you feeling, chiquita?”
Elizabeth moved her arms, her legs, and her head. She flinched. “My neck hurts a little.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Most of it. It wasn’t my fault.”
Smiling softly, Nita ran a hand down her arm. “Whether or not the accident was your fault doesn’t matter. You’ll have bruises, some whiplash. Thank the Lord, nothing serious.”
“How long have I been
here?”
“A few hours.”
Still groggy, she frowned. “I’ve been asleep all the time?”
“Resting. You need rest still.”
“I was on my way to the clubhouse…”
“Seems you missed out on quite a show. Word’s already ripped through town. Abigail’s meeting was interrupted by a surprise guest.”
“Who?”
“A baby, left abandoned on the clubhouse steps. A note was found. It said Bradford Price is the father.”
Elizabeth’s mind whirled with questions as she tried to digest the news. If Brad was the father, who was the mother? Had he known about the baby? Was the claim true or was someone out to discredit him? What did the allegation mean for the election and Abigail’s plans for a new clubhouse? Where would all this leave Daniel?
Deep in thought, Elizabeth absently studied the room. Large. Clean. White. A beautiful spray of flowers sat near the window. Elizabeth’s heartbeat ratcheted up and, smiling, she shimmied and tried to sit up. When her neck twinged again, she set her teeth and lowered back down.
“Those flowers…?”
“Very pretty.” Nita smiled. “Very bright.”
Elizabeth heard her heartbeat pounding with hope in her ears. Was Daniel still here? Perhaps he’d heard about her accident before he’d had a chance to leave?
“Who are they from?”
“I’ll bring you the card.”
A moment later, Elizabeth focused on the handwritten note. Her heart and hand dropped at the signature.
“They’re from Chad.”
“He’s been here the whole time.”
